Coupon King
by Inkblooded Witch
Summary: Castiel, in an effort of support, has decided to join his boyfriend on a raid of the local supermarket. Though it's hardly the sort of raid that would normally jump to mind. Rated for language and brief mentions of sexy fun times. Short and fluffy one-shot.


**I know I keep throwing these little one-shots at you, my darling readers, but I've got way more multi-chapter big projects in the works than I can keep track of most days. I have a short attention span and more plot bunnies than I can handle, not to mention a severe lack of time, (read: adulting sucks.) So until I finish something please enjoy my little offerings. :)**

 **Never tried couponing myself, but it fascinates me. Fluffy fun was the result.**

 **Enjoy!**

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Castiel hesitated on the ratty welcome mat, glancing down at the load in his arms. After a moment's hesitation he decided not to bother shifting the stack of papers and instead jammed the doorbell with his elbow. A moment later the door was opened by a shaggy haired teen whose eyes immediately dropped to his armful, mouth twisting in a wry smile.

"He told you, huh?" Sam asked, stepping back and opening the door wider.

"Thank you," he said absently as he crossed the threshold. "Yes, he did. I got the papers last night. Oh, and Michael let me use all the computers at his business."

Sam's eyebrows shot up. "How many is that?"

"Five computers, with the five copy limit on each IBM. Also it seems all forty homeowners in my neighborhood set out their recycle bins the night before."

He followed Sam to their kitchen, setting down his load on the table with a sigh of relief.

"Let me get this straight, you got forty extra copies of the Sunday paper's coupons and twenty-five printouts of those web coupons?"

"Considering his current supply is in the hundreds I realize it's not very significant, but it was the best I could do on short notice." Castiel set his backpack on the floor, bracing his hands on the back of a chair.

Sam gave him a long look. "You...wow, okay. Dean's not home yet, you're welcome to the fridge. I've got homework so I'm not going to cut those."

"I know. I completed a majority of my assignments early to allow time for this."

His boyfriend's younger brother wandered out, shaking his head. He was almost out of the kitchen when he stopped, turning to look back at Castiel. "Are you sure you want to go with him?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Nothing. It's just I don't think you've seen how crazy it gets."

"No, I'm aware. I've seen the TV shows. Considering the alternatives for addiction this seems like a constructive outlet."

"Addiction?"

"Mild, but yes. Can you think of a better word?"

Sam thought about it, grimacing. "No, I guess not. Good luck."

Castiel plopped down, armed with scissors as he went to work.

While Dean Winchester had only been his boyfriend for approximately four months, Castiel had had a crush on him since high school. Now they were both nineteen and going to the local college, each holding down a part-time job so they wouldn't be completely dependent on the family they still lived with. Even after they'd started dating Dean had managed to keep certain things quiet. For whatever bizarre reason it had been easier for him to admit he was bisexual than it had been to admit he was an extreme couponer.

According to Sam it was a survival skill that had become a habit, not that Dean knew he'd said as much. Now the brothers lived with Bobby, an old family friend and surrogate uncle, but only for the last five years. Before that they'd live with their alcoholic father who would drink whatever money he could lay hands on. Not only had Dean had to work since he was old enough to believably lie about his age, he'd had to scrounge every penny he could wherever he could. After getting caught twice stealing and doing a stent in juvy he'd turned to more legal means. Not to avoid having a rap sheet but because he'd come back to find his brother on his second day with no meal, a house with no power no water and late rent. He'd started using every coupon he could lay hands on, which had done wonders for their standard of living before liver failure finally felled their father. Now he used the results of couponing to convert Bobby's basement into a stockpile, which the man didn't mind. Considering he now had two teenagers to feed plus college tuition Bobby was more than willing to let Dean go nuts.

Castiel had seen the results himself just yesterday. Dean had brought him over and confessed like he'd killed someone. While it did take further research on the subject later that day Castiel saw no reason why this would warrant a breakup, even after realizing it had contributed to the breakdown of Dean's previous serious relationships. Honestly he found the stockpile impressive. Since moving in with Bobby Dean been able to go crazy, no longer limiting his focus to food products. Bathroom products, paper products, diapers, and every type of soap Castiel had heard of were now part of his stockpile. Toothpaste, shampoo, conditioner, mouthwash, deodorant, lotion, feminine products, toothbrushes, toilet paper, paper towels, hand soap, dish soap, laundry detergent, Windex, and that was just what Castiel had gotten from a glance. Bobby had a large basement.

Every now and then, when he started to overflow the basement, Bobby would help him make a run to the local shelters. Though that had only happened twice, mostly because word got around he was willing to part with things for minimal payment. Depending on the person he'd set different parameters regarding payment. For friends who were fellow students and/or on a tight budget he'd take a dollar per item. Charlie and Jo both went to him for quality feminine products and made him promise to help with their wedding. He'd offered more, but despite the fact they scraped by in a tiny studio apartment they generally refused. For others, who were in the same situation he and Sammy had been in, it was reduced to either a penny per item or nothing at all. It was advertized by word of mouth only, to help ensure only those who needed it came knocking. Castiel was honestly quite impressed with the entire system.

In order to keep that system running, Dean regularly drained every single source of coupons and kept a stash religiously organized. Printout coupons from every computer he could get access to, as many newspaper cutouts as he could lay hands on, and whatever people brought him. An oversized, zipped up binder that was already bulging contained a carefully cataloged collection of coupons. Considering Dean went to work at times when stores were the least busy so as to avoid anyone he might know, he was understandably proud of it all.

Castiel, for his part, felt he should be supportive. At the very least it would mean Dean was, to say the least, fiscally responsible. Which was why when his boyfriend came trudging through the door an hour later, he found Castiel carefully and methodically cutting out coupons.

"Sammy, what are you...Cas?"

"Hello Dean. I would have put these with the others but Sam indicated you tend to render the limbs of those who touch your binder. How was work?"

"Where did you get these?" Dean shrugged off his coat, tossing it over another chair and picking up some of the print-out coupons to check the expiration dates. _"Why'd_ you get these?"

"I wanted to help and display support. You mentioned you were planning on making a trip to resupply part of your stockpile tonight and it helps to have a second set of hands. I would like to accompany you."

Dean was quiet for a moment. Then he set down the coupons, gripped Castiel by the lapels, pulled him up from the chair, and kissed him. He kissed him long and good. Once he got over a brief moment of surprise Castiel returned it, one hand gripping Dean's grease-streaked jumpsuit, the other cupping his face.

"You're awesome, you know that?" Dean rasped when they parted for air. "You're fucken' awesome."

Castiel used the opportunity to shove him up against the nearest wall, bracing a knee between his thighs. He was rewarded with a wanton moan when he kissed Dean again, slower this time. He only let up when the other teen had gone semi-limp and actually whimpered when he turned his attention to a pulsing jugular. A part of Castiel mused that he was the lucky one, marveled over it.

"Cas...Cas I stink I'm dirty and I need..." He trailed off with a groan, then braced his hands on Castiel's shoulders. "If I'm gonna be making a stock run tonight I need...I gatta...son of a bitch...

A smug smile tugged at Castiel's lips. Not for the first time he was grateful for Dean's libido. Even as he lightly caught his boyfriend's lip between his teeth he tugged at the top buttons of his jumpsuit. It was harder to get through than Dean's preferred jeans and shirts, but he didn't mind. Better still, as long as they were quiet Sam wouldn't know.

Or at least that was his hope. Castiel got all the buttons undone, sliding one hand around to the small of Dean's back and slipping fingers under the waistband of Dean's boxers as his boyfriend fumbled for his belt. He was working on a fresh hicky just above a delightfully freckled collar bone when feet smacked down the stairs on the opposite side of their wall.

They barely had time to stiffen before Sam was asking, "If you're making a run tonight does that mean Bobby can get dinner on the way in? I can call him and- seriously?! At least get a room, guys, come on!"

Castiel jerked back, Dean fumbling with his jumpsuit. He managed to get the bottom two buttons done before just tying the arms around his waist. His face was flushed, drowning out a lot of his freckles.

"Damn it, Sammy."

"Don't 'damn it' me. You think I don't know what you guys do? I don't care, just don't do it where I can walk in on you, jeez. On second thought, I'm just gonna go and finish my homework in the shop."

Minutes later the front door shut. Castiel shifted uncomfortably, watching uneasily as Dean groaned and let his head tilt back against the wall. "My apologies," he mumbled quietly.

"Don't. I forgot he was here. Look, I really do stink, and I need to get some shuteye before tonight."

Castiel nodded, glancing at the table. "Of course. I'll finish these, you should rest."

"Cas, you don't have to."

"I know. I want to. Go."

Slowly Dean trudged out, making his way upstairs. Castiel returned to his post at the table, taking up his scissors once more. As he worked the shower ran for a while, then after some thumping around Dean went quiet. It was just as well, Castiel had traded shifts to allow time for this but Dean had spent all day in the shop. Not to mention he'd just slogged through a battery of assignments and tests. He would be tired, and if Sam's accounts were correct then it wasn't uncommon for supply runs to last for hours. Seeing as his brother had been his drafted assistant for virtually every run leading up to this point Castiel took his word as gospel.

It took well over an hour, but by the time it was sunset he had several neat stacks of freshly cut coupons and a trash bag of the remains to be added to Bobby's overflowing recycle bin. Castiel yawned, stretched, then went to check on Dean. When he peeked into his boyfriend's room he found him passed out on his bed, hair still damp from the shower, barefoot and in clean clothes.

A soft smile graced his face. He stepped inside, removing his own shoes and carefully climbing onto the bed. He laid down gingerly, trying not to jostle Dean awake. If he was to join his boyfriend on what Sam insisted was an extensive, stressful outing he saw no reason why he shouldn't rest up too. He started to nod off, but was pulled awake when Dean rolled over. At first he stiffened, but Castiel relaxed when Dean settled again, particularly when he settled half on top of him. Smiling, he closed his eyes and turned his head towards his boyfriend's face.

Castiel didn't even realize he'd fallen asleep until he was rudely awoken by an alarm on Dean's phone. He jerked, gasping as Dean lurched upright and fumbled to grab it. Once it was silenced he twisted, turning to stare at Castiel in a room lit only by a few fingers of moonlight.

"Cas, what the hell?" he demanded, voice a harsh whisper.

Blinking blearily, Castiel reached over to check Dean's watch. 11:30. "Is it time to go?" he asked quietly, aware Sam and Bobby were probably asleep.

"Yeah, but why are you in my bed?"

"Considering this is the most innocent thing we've done in it and there was room...

Dean groaned, swinging his legs over the bed's edge. "Never mind. Come on, get moving. We gatta get there by midnight."

Once downstairs Dean found two extra sub sandwiches in the fridge. He had Castiel eat one while he loaded up the binder and added the new coupons to it, running a few quick calculations to compensate for the addition. He had a list that detailed what he'd be getting, how many of each item he'd be getting, and exactly how much the total for them should be. He didn't even seem mad that Castiel had made him rewrite part of it.

Satisfied with his material, Dean tossed Castiel the keys to Bobby's old pickup truck. He could fit more into the truck than the Impala. Never mind Castiel had yet to meet anyone Dean allowed to drive Baby. He drove them out to the store while Dean ate his own sandwich.

The store they'd be hitting was a 24-hour one, and guaranteed to be virtually deserted when they got there. Castiel had his pick of the parking spaces, a rarity at this particular store. His responsibilities were minimized after that, he knew. After this he would simply help pile things and push carts. Which he didn't mind. He was curious to see how Dean worked.

Castiel soon found himself in charge of one cart while Dean took a second one. They hit the heavier, bulkier items first, part of the strategy Dean had never gotten around to explaining in full. It wasn't just the coupons, everything that went into their carts was also subject to a current store sale. The idea was to double up whenever possible, and if an item was neither on sale nor on a coupon then it didn't get bought. Something Sam had bemoaned more than once now that such things were technically in the budget.

Among the first items to be piled into their carts were six packs of sodas, diapers, and baby wipes. Supposedly so they wouldn't crush anything else they loaded into the buggies. Then they moved on to health and beauty products, by which time Castiel had a feeling he'd be sent to fetch another cart before they were done.

It took roughly ten minutes for Castiel to understand why it took a minimum of three hours for a run. Dean was, in a word, meticulous. They both counted as they loaded things into a buggy, then he'd go through and count them a second time to be sure and count the corresponding coupons to ensure they wouldn't have to put anything back later. Only then would he check that product off his list and move on.

They had filled one buggy up completely, and had reached the isle with pancake mix, when Castiel asked, "Exactly how much do you intend to spend tonight?" He knew how much he spent on groceries for a week, and rarely did he fill up a single cart, never mind three. Or perhaps it would be four, seeing as they weren't halfway through Dean's list yet.

"Thirty dollars. Maybe," was the absent response. Dean's attention was on confirming the tags that indicated the store sale for the pancake mix.

Castiel gaped at him. "Thirty dollars," he repeated. "For all that?"

Evergreen eyes finally spared him a look, the first time he'd gotten a majority of his boyfriend's attention since they'd set foot in the store. "Yeah. What, you don't believe me?"

He turned away without waiting for an answer, turning his attention to the binder opened onto the seat portion of his own, thus far unburdened buggy. Rather than answer right away, Castiel came up behind him and wrapped his arms around Dean's waist, pressing his lips to his neck. "I'll make you a deal," he murmured, dropping his voice an octave. "If you can walk out of here without paying a penny over thirty dollars, I'm going to...

Castiel took his time, laying out in explicit detail what he would do to his boyfriend. They'd only been intimate for a month, but it was enough time for him to figure out things Dean liked. As he spoke he ran a hand up the other teen's torso, rubbing his stomach and chest through Dean's t-shirt. By the time he was done he'd been rewarded with a decided hitch in his boyfriend's breathing, a stiffening of his spine and a tiny, almost inaudible moan.

When he stepped away, Dean actually swayed slightly before clearing his throat. "Deal. Come on, we need twenty of these."

Smiling fondly, Castiel did as he was bid. Pancake mix, coffee, cereal, soup, pasta, and snack mix were among the things added to their second cart. As Castiel had suspected he was sent to fetch a third cart. By the time Dean made a final count and led the way to an empty checkout lane they had four and Castiel was beginning to question whether or not Bobby's truck had sufficient space.

The woman standing at the register, middle-aged with her hair tied back under a bandana, smiled warmly as the first of their haul was piled onto her belt. "'Evening Dean. The stockpile getting low?"

"Hey Margie. Yeah, it needs a boost."

"Where's Sam? This one's new."

Castiel paused, waiting for her to start chipping away at the items they already had on the belt before adding more. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his boyfriend blush. "Sam's getting some sleep. This is Castiel, he's...I, uh...

"I'm his boyfriend. It's nice to meet you, Margie."

This only made Dean blush more, but the lady just beamed at them and focused on her work. She was fast, more so than most of the people Castiel had seen behind the register. He could see why Dean had opted for her lane, if not for the friendliness.

The checkout alone took twenty minutes, transferring four buggy's worth of food and supplies onto the belt, across Margie's scanner, into bags, then back into the carts. When it was finally all through Castiel dared a look at the computer screen and blanched. With tax and before the store sales, which were applied automatically, it was $728.93. After the sales it dropped to $384.99, which was still far more than the thirty dollar goal.

Margie braced her hands on the counter, mouth twisting in a hooked grin as Dean laid his binder on the belt. "Alright, hit me."

The first stack was placed by her register and Margie went to work once more. Castiel watched the total drop, bit by bit. It was one thing to know they had well over a hundred coupons to get through, it was another to sit through the process.

$300. $200. $100. When they got to the double digits Castiel wondered if he should feel so surprised.

$90. $80. $70. $60. $50. $40...

"Your total is twenty-six dollars and nineteen cents," Margie declared at last.

Dean's shoulders sagged in relief even as a wide grin spread across his face. A proud smile tugged at Castiel's mouth as Dean paid and the staff who'd gathered to watch drifted away. The sun still wasn't up, but it wouldn't be long in coming.

Castiel was reaching for the first buggy when Margie's machine began to print the receipt. He was used to this taking mere seconds, so he didn't think much of it. But when it kept buzzing he turned to look, and his eyes widened yet again. Dean was being handed the end of what was already a yard of receipt, Margie holding a section near its middle as it continued to spool out. She wasn't able to tear it off until a full six feet of white paper had been printed, the entirety of it covered with numbers. It took Dean a moment to get it folded up enough to stuff into his binder, which he tossed onto the least burdened buggy and began the process of getting all four out the door.

The parking lot was still mostly empty when they dragged four piled carts outside. Castiel dropped the tailgate and climbed up into the truck's bed, taking what Dean handed up and stacking it as best he could. They still ended up putting a dozen bags in the cramped backseat before Dean got behind the wheel, bound for home.

It was a long haul, unloading the truck and getting things organized into Dean's stockpile to his standards. Even so, there was a bizarrely intense sense of satisfaction when they were done, when Castiel backed up to the stair's foot and surveyed their handiwork. As he watched Dean set the last box of toothpaste onto a shelf, dusting his hands off and taking a step back.

"You did it."

Dean turned, eyebrows raised a little. "Yeah. Ye of little faith."

Castiel shook his head. "I didn't doubt you, Dean. But it's one thing to hear about something, it's another to witness it."

"So you're okay with all this?"

"Okay?" he repeated, head tilting as he wandered closer. "I think we've established this is not a deal breaker, Dean. Not only is it not repellent, I find this impressive. Also, I believe I have a promise to keep."

Blushing, Dean tried to protest. Mostly because Sam and Bobby had, by some miracle, slept through their tramping in and out the front door. In the end Castiel agreed to postpone his reward until the house was empty. How else was Dean supposed to fully appreciate it when he displayed his enthusiasm and awe?

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